


Heavy Days In June

by Lily_Padd_23



Category: The West Wing
Genre: 2020, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Married Couple, Mild Sexual Content, Politics, Post-Canon, Seaborn For President, Self-Indulgent, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, White House, extremely gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:09:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28660749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily_Padd_23/pseuds/Lily_Padd_23
Summary: A glimpse at an alternate summer 2020 with President Seaborn in the White House.
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Sam Seaborn
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	Heavy Days In June

**Author's Note:**

  * For [supernatural_mondler (starzinoureyes)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starzinoureyes/gifts).



> This fic is a one-shot within a decades-long headcanon that SM and I have had planned for ages that follows canon election year cycles. It is not meant to be part of Two Of Us, but it exists in the same timeline, which we worked around canon. Anyway, I just wanted to play with something soft and fluffy for SM's birthday, so hopefully, those of you who have enjoyed our collaborations and other SamJosh oneshots in and out of this universe (and escapism to a reality with a responsible leader during a crisis) will like this peak into their future as well.
> 
> P.S. I haven't had a Spanish class in over a decade, so it's rusty, and Google translate can be more hurtful than helpful. Message me if there's something I need to fix.

**June 2020**

Sam had no idea how late it was when he finally dragged himself to the Residence, loosening his tie and draping his jacket over his arm. His secretary made him promise not to take work to bed when it became clear he’d be up as late as he would on calls between China and Director-General Berhane at the WHO.

“Mia!” he’d griped, removing his glasses to rub the heels of his palms against his eyes, “Wouldn’t you rather I took work up and read from bed than if I stayed down here all night?”

“I’d rather you _not_ take work up and _sleep_ in bed given that you’re already going to be down here almost all night, Mr. President!” she’d clicked her pen at him. How she could still give death glares with a mask on he had no idea. 

There was still one more HHS report to read when he got off the phone for the final time, and Mia had already gone home as he packed it into his briefcase. But he decided it could wait until breakfast if for no other reason than he knew Mia would ask if he’d taken work up or gone to bed and she’d be able to tell he was lying, and even though he’d known her since they were in their twenties and she was nearly a foot shorter than he was, he was still mildly terrified of her. 

The summer air was thick and clammy as he made it to the Residence. He nodded to the guard in the hall (Tony? Tory? Somebody.) and practically collapsed through the bedroom door. He pulled off his mask, silky and navy blue with an elastic across the bridge of his nose that was theoretically supposed to keep his glasses from fogging up, but rarely actually... kept his glasses from fogging up. As said fog evaporated from his glasses, he looked across the room at the warm yellow lamplight casting shadows across Josh, who was all tucked up against the pillows quietly reading Ta-Nehisi Coates. Sitting there, his hair and beard and t-shirt and skin all looking soft, Josh flipped a page and Sam thought he looked almost elegant. If Josh had spent their younger years saying Sam looked like a Greek God carved out of gold every time he’d walk out into the sun or put on tanning oil or stepped out of the shower, in moments like this, Sam thought, Josh looked like one carved out of perfect marble. He opened his mouth to say something to that effect but, quite frankly, found himself a bit speechless. His body was so tired and his brain was still swirling with statistics and epidemiology terminology that for a solid thirty seconds all he could do was just stand there, with his mouth ajar and a dazed stare, looking at his husband in the lamplight. 

“Hey, baby,” Josh said after a moment, not looking up from his reading. 

“Hey,” Sam moved all the way into the room, draping his jacket across the back of a chair and stepping out of his shoes, “You’re up!”

“I am,” Josh smiled lightly, eyes still fixed on the pages. 

“I thought you might be asleep,” Sam said, tugging off his tie and making quick work of the buttons on his shirt. 

“I’m not,” Josh chuckled into the quiet as Sam changed into his pajama pants, the pale grey cotton ones with tiny little ships (Josh and the kids made fun of them, but they were good for hot weather) and went to the bathroom to do his teeth and hair and skincare routine, abridging it tonight cause he was having trouble keeping himself upright.

“How’s the book?” Sam asked as he came back to bed.

“I’m learning,” Josh dog-eared a corner, which made Sam wince, but Josh just rolled his eyes and reached to put the book down asking, “How’d the call go?” 

“Oh, it was fine,” Sam set his glasses on his nightstand.

Josh turned back as Sam was dropping to the bed and asked flatly, “You wanna have sex?” 

“Mmmm….” Sam buried his face into Josh’s shoulder and felt Josh’s hand begin petting his hair, “The only thing I want more than to have sex with you right now is to maintain my dignity by not falling asleep in the middle of sex with you right now.”

Josh laughed out loud and bent to kiss Sam’s head, “One of those days?”

Nodding against Josh’s t-shirt Sam let out a muffled, “Mmm-hmm,” and nuzzled in closer.

“I could always just blow you.” Josh offered, the smirk evident without Sam even having to look at him.

“I could still fall asleep while you were blowing me,” Sam pointed out.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“I would!” Sam cried propping himself up onto his elbows with a start to give Josh an alarmed expression. 

“Sam, we’ve been together, how long?” Josh’s face was moments away from breaking into full laughter, “It’s not like it’s never happened to either of us.”

“That doesn't make me feel any better about the odds. Besides, it hasn't happened... since we’ve been here!” Sam gestured with just his face, moving his gaze across the room. "And I'd like to keep it that way."

“What… are you saying…?” Josh’s dimples flickered and his brow twisted.

“Yes.”

“That you don’t want to fall asleep while we…”

“Yes.”

“Out of… respect for the office of the Presidency…?”

“Yes!”

“Okay.” 

“Okay!” Sam dropped his head back onto Josh’s shoulder indignantly. After feeling Josh’s breathing rise and fall a few times beneath him, Sam asked, “I mean, do you _want_ to blow me?”

“What the hell kind of a question is that?” 

“Like right now, I mean, did you want to?” he propped back up to look at Josh who had a baffled grin on his face.

“Sammy, the only time I ever don’t want to blow you is when I want you to blow me,” Josh snickered and Sam groaned and Josh went on, “Wait, no, even that’s not true cause we could just do it at the same…” 

“Josh, sweetheart, no, I meant...”

“Granted, we’re not as limber as we once were,” Josh went on unnecessarily.

“Josh, focus, I meant like… were you waiting up for me?” Sam stammered. Josh furrowed his brow, so Sam rephrased, “Like…. Were you waiting to fall asleep so I could fuck y...”

He was cut off by the door swinging open, “Oh, good you’re decent!” 

Their daughter breezed across the room and plopped at the foot of the bed by Sam before either of them could catch up with what was happening. 

“Oh my God, Ari, why aren’t you asleep?” Sam exclaimed, moving to sit back up.

“Why aren’t _you_ asleep?” she asked, pulling a perplexed face and rolling her eyes.

“What do you think we were doing in our bed?”

“Oh my god, Papa, boundaries!” she held up her hands sarcastically. Josh let out a low scoff from the back of his throat. 

“I meant we are in our bed trying to sleep; why aren’t you in your bed trying to sleep?” 

“Because I heard you come in!” 

“It’s…” he pulled his wrist watch close enough to his face to see, “...after midnight. Why were you still awake?”

“You’re still awake!” she repeated with a confused shrug. “I mean, your lamp’s on.”

“Oh my god. Josh!” he resigned, looking up at Josh, officially withdrawing his parental duties for the day. Ari just flailed her arms in an exaggerated _“what?!”_ motion, the sleek purple sleeves of her oversized dressing gown swinging around her hands for added emphasis. Sam dramatically collapsed back against Josh’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

“Honey, you really should be asleep,” Josh sighed, but Sam could tell he was shaking his head at her, “What do you need?” There was a long silence, and Sam pried open an eye to see Ari picking at her nail polish and looking at them expectantly.

She finally just shrugged and said, “Nothing.”

“I could have you arrested,” Sam informed her.

“You literally couldn’t.” she deadpanned.

“Ari, honey, if you don’t need anything, let’s let your Papa sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow,” Josh said.

“I could have you tried for trespassing.” Sam continued sleepily, his eyes dropping back closed, crossing his arms against his chest and pressing back into Josh’s shoulder.

“I live here.”

“Drawn and quartered, Ariadna!” he added, opening his eyes to give her a look.

“Sounds cruel and unusual.”

“Oh, _¿Podrías ir a la cama por favor?”_ Sam cried, playfully exaggerating mimed shooing slaps to her leg.

Ari gasped in fake outrage and stood up, _“Someone’s_ grumpy!” she cried, feigning an aghast expression.

 _“Sería significativamente menos gruñón si me dejas dormir.”_ Sam grumbled, dropping back into the pillows.

“Okay, so I’m not exactly sure what he just said, but I think he would be significantly less grumpy if he could get some sleep,” Josh said, pulling Sam up and against his chest. Sam and Ari both snickered at the same time.

 _“Supongo que me retiraré a mi habitación si nadie aprecia mi amor.”_ she sighed melodramatically. _“No me hagas caso. Lloraré hasta quedarme dormida y en mis sueños tendré un padre que me quiera.”_

 _“Buenas noches,_ Ari!” Sam said. 

Just as Ari turned to go, the door flung back open and Noah plodded into the room, _“¿Que esta pasando?”_

 _“¡Hola, Noah!”_ Ari cried. 

“Oh, look, the boy’s up, too,” Josh laughed and nudged Sam with his elbow. Sam sat back up and sighed, his eyes heavy, but reluctantly accepting that this was becoming a whole thing now.

“I heard Ari screeching down here and figured something funny was going on so I came to see what was going on,” Noah explained, crossing to sit on the bedside by Sam as Ari hopped back on the foot of the bed, adjusting the pale pink tie of her silk robe and crossing her bare feet beneath her.

“Why are you awake, bud?” Sam asked, rubbing his eyes.

“I said,” he shrugged, “I heard Ari.” 

“Ah.” Sam spread out his arms for Noah could crawl up and put his head on his shoulder so he could scratch Noah’s head.

Ari let out another pretend horrified gasp, “He gets to stay?!” she shrieked, “And I get excommunicated?!” 

“Life’s not fair.” Sam agreed. 

“It’s because I’m straight, isn’t it?” Ari cried. 

“No, it’s because you’re loud.” Josh quipped. 

“I see,” Ari went on, standing up and gesturing around the room, miming a crazy conspiracy theorist, “This is, like, a Queers Only zone.”

“No this is a quiet only zone.” Sam retorted.

“This is literally a civil rights violation!” she shouted, stomping her foot in mock righteous anger. “You are violating my civil rights.” 

“Yup, that’s exactly what’s happening.” Sam said through a yawn. 

“I could sue all three of you!” she railed on.

“Sure you could, honey.” Sam nodded. 

“I could take you to court for child neglect and homophobia against cis people.” 

“Uh-uh.”

“I could take you for every penny you have.” 

“So… your inheritance?” Josh said dryly and Sam chuckled. 

“Every penny, old man.” 

“You know it costs the Federal Reserve more than a penny to make a penny,” Sam raised his eyebrow and didn’t pause his scratching of Noah’s hair, “And we could save up to…”

“85 million dollars annually if we abolished the penny, I know,” Ari said, “So why haven’t you done it?” 

Sam cocked his head and opened his mouth.

“That’s a good question, babe, why haven’t you done it?” Josh grinned at him. 

“You know, it’s not as though I haven’t had a lot on my plate this whole time” Sam said, “It’s not as though I’ve been slacking off.”

“Seems like maybe you’ve been slacking off,” Ari raised her eyebrow and looked sarcastically back and forth between Sam and Josh. “Can’t even abolish the penny.”

“Okay, well, I’ll just tell the global pandemic to come back when it’s more convenient for everybody,” Sam said. 

“I mean, don’t you like…” Josh blinked, “Multi-task?”

“Oh my god,” Sam sighed. 

“It’s a penny, how long can it take, an hour and a half?” Ari said. 

“Yeah, the last guy fit in all that golf between potential nuclear holocausts, seems like the least you could do for the country during a time of economic turmoil would be to save us 85 million extra dollars.” Josh shrugged. 

“Okay, but can I do that after I’ve slept?” Sam asked through another long yawn.

“I mean at this point I have to wonder if you’ve done a full day’s work if you haven’t even managed to deal with something as basic as the penny,” Ari shrugged. 

Josh threw back his head in a laugh, and Sam groaned, “My god, you two are like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dickhead.”

Now Ari laughed gleefully, climbing up Josh’s side of the bed, shoving Josh to make room so she could tuck her head on his shoulder. Josh wrapped an arm around her and tugged her close, and the room fell quite for a long moment. Noah’s half-asleep breathing on Sam’s shoulder (he’d learned to tune out their nonsense years ago). Josh’s rustling to readjust lower into the pillows by Sam. Ari’s tiny hand finding Sam’s to squeeze across Josh’s chest. Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath of his son’s apple shampoo, of his daughter’s shea butter and almond lotion, of his husband smelling the way he always had, like coffee and flannel and paper and Barbasol. For a moment, they could’ve been back in their townhouse in Georgetown. Before the Seaborn for America 2018 campaign. Before they'd even started preparing for that. Before the pandemic. Before they were the first family and were just having their first year as a family. Before Ari had graduated high school and was a soon-to-be college Freshman. Before Noah was called Noah. Falling asleep on the couch in front of Animal Planet because it was Noah’s favorite or Masterpiece Classic because it was Ari’s favorite. Josh and Sam looking across the puddle of their sleepy children, still in complete and utter windswept awe that they had _children._

And here they were, nearly five years later, having made century’s worth of history one night nearly two years ago. The first gay President. The first First Gentleman. The first adopted immigrant kids in the White House. The first trans First Son. A self-declared socialist First Daughter who never passed up a chance to cause good trouble, even if it made Sam’s press team exceedingly nervous. The poetic justice of _this_ family being the one to kick out the last guy...after everything he’d said and done to hurt people like them… had been overwhelming. It still was sometimes. As Sam lay here and held his family, the world watching and relying upon his every decision when it came to how he handled this crisis, the weight of the responsibility for not just his country and the world as the American President, but as the gay American President and as the American President who was the father of these children. Moments like this reminded him vividly of what was never far from the front of his mind that every misstep reflected not just who he was as the person in this office or who he was as an individual but who his identity meant he was representing and who he was as part of this family. It shouldn't have to be that way, but they were all held to a level of scrutiny that most first families weren't. That coupled with the unattainable standard of perfection Sam placed on himself in everything. Anyway, just closing his eyes and _being_ with his family was something he rarely allowed himself to do. 

He certainly hadn’t managed the pandemic response perfectly at first. In fact, he’d done several things that, with the hindsight of several months, he now knew were gross miscalculations. He’d done a lot right. He’d redirected massive amounts of funding to the pandemic response team and to the WHO vaccine development, he’d worn his mask and closed travel and restaurants and implemented social distancing and shelter in place guidelines and gone about it as one reporter had described “like a happy warrior.” But he’d hesitated with full, mandatory lockdowns and complete closures because he’d waffled on differing advice that if they’d assumed the worst case scenario, people would panic. But people panicked anyway, and different states had different levels of restrictions, and numbers rose, and a month in, headlines about his projected optimism were replaced with ones about his naïveté. By the time they declared a state of emergency, the disease and misinformation had time to spread. So even with national lockdown and stimulus checks to help people stay home, not everyone complied, and the Republicans in the Senate would pontificate on cable news about Martial Law and economic turmoil and being ruled by fear. He could remember and a senior science advisor who’d been at the CDC since Sam was in high school saying in a meeting, “For the past 50 years, we’ve been feeding the population a message of cutthroat individualism and then turn around and govern the American people as though they have everyone else’s interest at heart and act surprised when it turns out not all of them do.” 

So it hadn’t gone perfectly. But the curve was flattening now and they were slowly easing back towards reopening the economy. Though every time he saw the numbers, he’d feel sick to his stomach that he could have prevented tens of thousands of deaths if he had acted more decisively from day one. 

“We flattened the curve, Sam,” Josh had said a few nights ago, rubbing his neck as he spiraled about a spike in South Carolina after a mayor wouldn’t close bars in her coastal town when school let out. “Just think how much worse it had been if you weren’t here. If _he_ had won reelection and he was here instead of making the rounds on Fox to talk about how it’s a hoax.” 

He couldn’t believe sometimes how steady Josh had become. Being a dad suited him. Being married suited him. Being retired from the 9-5 grind suited him, too. He had his First Dude stuff, as Josh liked to call it, but he took a fairly hands-off approach. To spend time with the kids, they’d say when people asked; they were going to be all grown up soon, and Josh didn’t want to lose time being a dad. And that was true. But Sam also knew that after nearly two decades running at full steam ahead in the White House, his husband was quite simply, ready to take a step back. Happily cheering Sam on from the shade of his fig tree and all that. The looming thundercloud of chaos that seemed to hang over Josh’s head had long ago evaporated into more of a slight occasional mist. He was still a walking disaster most of the time, but he walked a little slower now and he didn’t spend as much time looking over his shoulder. He’d done everything he ever dreamed with his career and now he got to put his shoulders down and be a dad. Which was by no means stress-free, but he got to take afternoon naps now and go to baseball games and have a dog. Things for which he wouldn’t have traded his career when he was in it, but now that he’d mellowed into this chapter, he wouldn’t trade this for going back.

“You’re getting too big for this.” Sam said with a laugh when Noah adjusted and accidentally sent a knee into Sam’s ribcage. 

“Maybe he has,” Ari said, “But I’ve only grown two inches since you met me.” 

“Alright, time for bed everybody!” Josh announced with a clap, sitting up sharply so that Ari was ungracefully fumbled from propped on his shoulder to his pillow behind him.

“We’re _in_ bed!” she pouted. 

“Don’t you have, like, school or something?” Sam groaned. 

“It’s Saturday.” Noah answered.

“In June.” Ari said. 

“Right.” 

“You know, ever since you became President of the United States it’s like you don’t even have time to know what month of the year it is,” Ari dragged herself up, “It’s like you don’t even care about your family anymore.” 

“That’s the answer I should have given on the campaign trail when they asked me why I was running for President,” Sam said, un-attaching Noah from his side and nudging him onto his feet, “‘Congressman Seaborn, why are you running for President?’ ‘Well, Anderson, because I believe in an America built on a foundation equality and justice and freedom instead of prejudice and profit at the expense of our planet and the liberties of others, because I want to champion an economy that works for every American, regardless of who they are or where they came from, oh and because I hate my family.’”

“Papa!” Ari feigned exasperation as she stood up and adjusted her robe. 

“I want to make the American dream a reality for all families,” Sam went on, “Except for mine. Because I hate them.”

Noah giggled in the way he did where he just let air out of his nostrils and his nose went all crinkly, and Ari rolled her eyes, “Goodnight, Dad,” she said, bending to kiss Josh’s cheek.

“Goodnight, honey,” Josh said, kissing hers.

“Goodnight, Papa,” she circled the bed, a cheeky smile on her face, and hugged Sam.

He kissed her hair and told her goodnight, and Noah gave his goodnights as he sleepily trudged his sock feet towards the door, stopping to wait in the doorway for his sister. Sam watched them calling. “Don’t stay up all night on your phones, okay?” as Ari draped an arm around her brother’s slightly taller shoulder. 

“We won’t,” they said at the same time.

“Love you!” he called. 

“Love you, too!” they parroted, the door closing behind them as Ari turned to blow him a kiss. 

“They’re the best,” Sam smiled sleepily, sinking back into the pillows facing his husband. “Absolutely ridiculous, but incomparably stellar.”

Flicking off the lamp, Josh said, “Wonder where they picked up that particular combination of attributes?” and shifted to tuck himself against his own pillow, face-to-face with Sam in the dark room. 

"Frankly, I think _we_ picked it up from _them."_ Sam had to blink a few times before he could really make out Josh’s face in front of him, but once he could see Josh’s soft, cozy gaze, he couldn’t help but reach out and run his knuckles across from his cheek to his jaw. Josh tipped his chin to kiss Sam’s fingers, and Sam let out a long comfortable exhale, his eyes just beginning to flutter closed. 

In almost a murmur, Josh asked, “You sure you don’t want me to blow you?”

Sam’s eyes shot back open and he cried, delivering a scolding smack to Josh’s chest for emphasis, “You _did_ wait up for me!” 

“I didn’t!” Josh laughed with wide-eyes, catching Sam’s hand in his, “I really didn’t!”

“You did!”

“Sam, I swear to God, I got into my book and completely lost track of time, and then when I saw the clock I figured you’d be up soon anyway and I may as well read a bit more so I could see you,” Josh said, “I wasn’t like… scheming for sex. But I just, y’know, since we’re both up, if you happened to be in the mood I’m not _not_ in the mood.” 

“Josh…”

“Baby, you do this when you’re tired,” Josh found Sam’s other hand and started rubbing circles on his skin with his thumbs.

“Do what?”

“You forget that I’m not someone who can hide my intentions from you or wants to play games with your head. You forget that you don’t have to try and figure out what I’m actually saying when I say things.” Sam opened his mouth around a protest, but Josh just said, “Sammy. If I had waited up for any particular reason, I would have just told you. I don’t have the patience or the energy to keep track of ulterior motives. And you clearly don’t have the energy to do anything but sleep right now, so you should sleep.” 

Laughing and nestling his head into Josh’s chest, “Love you,” he whispered, interrupting himself with a long yawn. 

Josh kissed his hair and chuckled, “G’night, babe.” 

Sam let out another one of those deep exhales that he felt all the way into his stomach that let him melt even further against the gentle give of mattress and the cotton of Josh’s t-shirt, “Goodnight.” 

Beneath his cheek, Sam felt the lifts of Josh’s chest, long and low. The soothing breath that graced Sam’s hair from Josh’s lips was shortly followed by Josh’s fingers, lazily tangling themselves in the longer strands, carding all the way through the tips so they lifted up and off Sam’s scalp, and then letting them drop in easy sections. After a few more of these breaths that pulled him deeper and deeper towards sleep, Sam fully expected his mind to wonder into the nonsense of half-completed thoughts as his brain lulled itself to sleep, all the stress of the day seeping out of his body, the tension in his shoulders unable to compete with the drowsy comfort that still came from falling asleep next to Josh after a long day after all these years. But instead his eyes popped back open. On feeling Sam’s abrupt start, Josh froze, hand still in Sam’s hair, breathing stuck on an anticipatory inhale. 

“Josh?” Sam whispered.

“Yes?”

“Does the offer still stand?” 

Air left Josh’s nose in a sharp, amused huff and, after a pause he said, “Yeah.” 

“And if I fall asleep while you’re doing it, I’m sure the Founding Fathers would sympathize with me considering that they are also among the handful of people who truly understand the stress of this particular job firsthand,” Sam reasoned, slowly rolling over onto his back. 

“Sam?” 

“Surely they wouldn’t see it as an emasculating lack of decorum or disgrace to my dignity as President of these United States and rather as a sign that I have given an honest day of dedication to the office and to the duties of serving my country.” 

“Sam?” Josh repeated, “Maybe we don’t with the speculating what the Founding Fathers would think about the respectability of our sex life? _As_ I’m getting ready to give you a blowjob?”

“That’s a very fair request.” 

“Pondering the philosophical commentary of ancient dudes who would flip their powdered wigs at the notion that the country they conjectured would eventually allow me to marry you much less give you White House head doesn’t exactly set the mood for White House head.” Josh said, pushing himself up to lean over Sam.

“Did you hear me saying that was a fair request?”

“I’m just saying, I don’t think whether or not you doze off would be the deciding factor for John Adams’ opinion were he presented with the information regarding what’s about to happen right now.” Josh went on. 

“You’re the one who isn’t shutting up about the Founding Fathers now!” 

Josh flitted his eyes back and forth... “Well, technically I’m not shutting up about _you_ not shutting up about the Founding Fathers…” 

“Besides,” Sam rattled before Josh had even finished his thought, “Out of all the founders, I think Adams would be the most likely to adopt an attitude that was while likely far from accepting at least not actively antagonistic given that he...” 

“Sam?” Josh dropped back down to his elbow after holding himself up on his hands, “Wasn’t Hamilton like, not straight?”

“Was he?” Sam blinked. 

“I don’t know, Ari said something about vaguely not heterosexual love letters.”

“Well, he never held the office of the Presidency!” Sam countered. 

“I thought we were talking about Founding Fathers, not just Presidents,” Josh furrowed his brow, “You never operationalized it.”

“I said they that they could understand the pressures of the job and therefore would be able to sympathize with my predicament of potentially falling asleep in the middle of sex, so clearly I was implying that the individuals in question were those who were both Founding Fathers and Presidents,” Sam continued, “Besides he couldn’t maintain his composure long enough to not broadcast the fact that he was paying a guy to have an affair with his wife so publicly that he had a hit musical written about it 200 years later, so frankly, I’m going to have to take any of his opinions about whether or not I have maintained my self-respect in the bedroom with a very large grain of salt.” 

“You know, Sam, for someone who’s too tired to stay awake for a blowjob, you sure have a lot to say about a bunch of dead guys in tights hypothetically being judgy,” Josh raised an eyebrow and curled his lip in that offhand sarcastic way he had. Sam let out a laugh and Josh laughed down at him, too. Still grinning sleepily, Sam reached a hand to the back of Josh’s neck and pulled him into a long, lethargic kiss. The kind they used to give each other waking up on the weekends when they were first starting out on the Hill and neither of them had to go into work and they would roll over to each other in the morning with the whole day ahead of them. Sam smiled into the kiss so hard that, by the time they broke apart, his face hurt and they were giggling into each other’s mouths. Josh's beard was soft and slightly ticklish as they kissed, and his eyes were all sparkly in the darkness as he looked down with a flushed smile. 

"God," Sam whispered, "You're exquisitely beautiful."

"Who, me?" Josh rolled his eyes slightly, but smiled and said, "You are."

Moving to kiss Sam behind his ear, Josh slid his hand past the Sam’s waistband, and Sam felt his breath hitch. Sam smiled and closed his eyes and tipped back into the pillow as Josh began to slowly migrate his kisses from his neck, to his bicep, to his hip… 

Sam did in fact fall asleep. This, of course, didn’t register until Josh’s warm hand on his chest through the fabric of his grey Duke shirt drew him awake. Sam opened his eyes through a few blinks and a drowsy, “Hmm?” as he peered down where Josh sat between his legs. Eyes wide and eyebrows arched watching him, his right hand paused and waiting above Sam’s lap. “Did I…?” 

He could just make out Josh’s charmed smile and nod in the dark.

“How long?”

“About a minute, I think?” Josh said, “You were talking dirty and then you stopped making sense and then you stopped altogether, and I thought you might be close, but then you snored.” 

“I snored?” Sam gasped, “I don’t snore, Josh.” 

“Well, you did and you do, but that’s not the point,” Josh said, “You want me to keep going or...?” 

“Mmm hmm,” Sam nodded, “But I don’t snore.” 

“Mmkay,” Josh said, mouth full.

“I don't … oh _god!_ ” 

It wasn’t often that Sam let go of the reins like this. Sex usually offered him a much-needed break from the clutter of a scattered mind that craved order by being the precise, collected, tactful one in bed whereas Josh usually wanted to just stop thinking, to stop having to ask, and to allow himself to trust that Sam would always simply know. And there was nothing Sam liked better than figuring it out. Josh set the tone. Sam worked out the details. Even now, Josh went about the task at hand like messy, quiet laughter bubbling between them. And even in the lulls of sleepy satiation, Sam had a hand loosely in Josh’s hair to occasionally guide his pace and direction. Tonight was hazy and slow. Sam felt like it was all a little cloudy, but in a gentle, cozy way like drifting between a dream and trying to remember what you were just dreaming. When he was a teenager, he never really thought that _cozy_ would be a word that would make logical and lovely sense to use in describing good sex or describing sex at all, and yet… 

“Oh, _oh,_ oh Josh!” Sam was so comfortable that when he finished, he caught himself a little off guard, blinking and sputtering and waiting for his legs to stop buzzing long enough so that he could move. He started to reach out a shaky hand towards Josh, but this seemed to require more energy than he had available to him. Catching his breath a bit, Josh wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shifted to lay back beside Sam, gently tugging Sam’s pajamas back up. 

“That was…” Sam yawned, “That was… worth losing whatever remaining dignity I hadn’t already robbed the office of with my radical communist fascist authoritarian liberal agenda by slowly becoming a stereotypical old guy.”

“Shh…” Josh leaned in and kissed his nose, “You’re younger than a lot of them were, they’re probably impressed by anyone who can still get it up.” 

“That’s the best argument you made all night,” Sam chuckled, his eyes falling closed.

“Shoulda led with that, then.” Josh replied. 

“You uh…?” Sam offered, making an attempt to move a hand down Josh’s chest. 

“I took care of it,” Josh took his hand and pulled Sam’s fingers to his lips, kissing them tenderly.

“What?” Sam’s eyes sprang back open, “That’s… I mean, I’m sorry… I would’ve…” 

“For crying out loud, Sammy you can barely keep your eyes open.” Josh said. It was true. Sam’s eyes had already drooped shut in the time it had taken him to try and fail to protest, “Besides, you’re gorgeous, and I didn’t mind just taking care of it myself." 

“Mmm…” Sam curled closer, “Well, I’ll pay you back tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay, but it’s not a transaction,” Josh laughed.

“You know what I mean, I’ll make it up to you,” Sam nudged him.

“I’m not gonna say no to that," Josh conceded, "Still don’t understand your lifelong insistence that you always have to even the score, though.”

“Josh?”

Josh’s hand was back in Sam’s hair as he whispered, “You never expect me to ‘make it up’ when you do something for me and you shouldn’t feel guilty or selfish for just letting me give you something just for you, it’s not like I’m not getting anything out of it, I get a lot out of...” 

“Josh, I understand what you’re trying to say, I do,” Sam said through another light yawn, “I assure you it’s not a guilt thing. It’s just a me thing. It’s not some sort of obligation I’ve internalized, it’s because I like it, too. That won’t change no matter how many times we've had this exact conversation.”

“Okay, baby,” Josh pressed his lips to Sam’s forehead, and Sam buried himself even deeper into the mattress. “But if you haven’t got time tomorrow, I’m not going to like, hold it against you, so you shouldn't hold it against yourself. We'll get to it when we can.”

“Okay,” Sam said, “What does tomorrow look like for you anyway?”

“Not much. The kids and I were thinking of doing a movie after dinner, but we can wait for you if you want.” Sam nodded, and Josh tried to recall, “I’ve got some reading to do for First Dude stuff on Monday.”

“What First Dude stuff?” 

“Some Zoom panel about renewable energy initiatives in Uruguay, don’t remember, that’s why I have to do the reading.” 

“Sounds interesting.” Sam mumbled.

“You can do it for me.” 

“Uruguay generates roughly 99 percent of all of its electricity from renewable sources,” Sam recited.

“Don’t know why they need our help, then,” Josh snorted.

“Maybe we’re getting their help.”

“Guess I’ll find out.”

“You want me to get you a washcloth or something?” Sam asked, but his words were dragging with exhaustion.

“I got it,” Josh groaned, untangling himself from the bed.

Not moving, Sam gave a muffled, “It's really no trouble.”

“Shockingly, I think I can handle it myself this once,” Josh called over his shoulder as he made his way to the bathroom. 

Sam was only partially aware, like faded foggy corners of a transition into a flashback sequence in old movies, of the water running, of the Josh’s padding about the bathroom, of the toilet flushing, of another sound from the sink, of the light clicking off and Josh ambling back with an exaggerated yawn, of Josh’s absent little sounds as he climbed in an adjusted himself in the bed. Josh snuggled up, dipping his head onto Sam’s chest, folding an arm over his stomach, and wrapping a leg around his in one wriggling motion. He tucked himself even closer and then whispered, “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight,” Sam replied. 

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the characters.  
> Title taken from June by Florence + the Machine  
> This is strictly for the entertainment of one person.  
> Happy Birthday, bud.


End file.
